III
Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious sense of buoyant expectancy. The sunshine was pouring into the room, brightening up its most somber corners. It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on which her head reposed.
Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to the bedside.
"Good morning, madame!"
Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands clasped about her knees.
"Tell me everything, Aline," she said. "Have you my breakfast there? And what time is it?"
"It is half-past nine, madame," Aline replied, "and your breakfast is here. The old imbecile from the kitchen has just brought it up."
Louise looked approvingly at the breakfast tray, with the home-made bread and deep-yellow butter, the brown eggs and clear honey. The smell of the coffee was aromatic. She breathed a little sigh of content.
"How delicious everything looks!" she exclaimed.